Founding Father
by FlaFan
Summary: Roy's angle before and during "The Wedsworth-Townsend Act," up until the time he and Johnny walk over to Squad 51 for the first time.
1. Chapter 1

**Founding Father**

By FlaFan

 _Roy's angle before and during "The Wedsworth-Townsend Act," up until the time he and Johnny walk over to Squad 51 for the first time._

 _Note: Though "Emergency!" went on the air in January, 1972, this story follows the real-life timeline of initial paramedic training and the law's passage._

 _July 20, 1969_

"Isn't it something?" Joanne DeSoto asked as she sat by her husband in front of the television.

"It really is," replied Roy DeSoto, putting his arm around his wife.

" _That's one small step for….man, one giant leap for mankind,"_ they heard Neil Armstrong say.

"Boy," said Roy, shaking his head. "Imagine walking on the moon."

Joanne smiled at him. "Want to go?" she asked.

Roy chuckled. "It is a tempting thought today, isn't it?" he asked. He smiled at Joanne and softly put a hand on her large belly. "Maybe this little one will get that chance."

"Wouldn't that be incredible?" Joanne asked.

As the DeSotos continued to watch Armstrong describe the moon, Roy thought about his own progression.

Ever since he was 16 and an engine crew had come to speak at his high school, Roy had wanted to be a firefighter. No sooner had he graduated from Norwalk High School than he went straight to the fire academy.

Graduating at the top of his class, he went to C shift at Station 20 in Norwalk. He and Joanne, who had been his girlfriend since 4th grade, were getting ready to marry.

Then Uncle Sam came calling. Roy spent two years as an Army medic in Vietnam, facing more horrors and hairy situations than he cared to count – and writing letters to Joanne as they postponed their vows.

He came back and finally walked down the aisle with Joanne. He also went back to Station 20 – this time to A shift as a rescue man.

Next month, Roy and Joanne were expecting their first child. Roy was content.

But….

Since he'd come back from Vietnam, Roy had a sense that he could do more as a fireman and rescuer.

As a medic, he had assisted at Batallion Aid stations. He felt that he'd played a significant part in the medical treatment the soldiers were getting.

As a rescue man, though, Roy sometimes felt more like a delivery man – taking wounded people to Harbor General or Rampart General and leaving them as if he was bringing loaves of bread.

He would follow up, ask the staff how the patients were doing. Some, such as Dixie McCall, the head nurse at Rampart Emergency, were accommodating. Dixie had served with a Mobile Army Surgical Hospital unit during the Korean War. When she heard about Roy's Vietnam service, she'd taken him under her wing like a kid brother.

Then there were people like Dr. Kelly Brackett, the crusty head of Rampart Emergency. He constantly referred to Roy and his colleagues as "hose jockeys" – a term none of them particularly liked.

Roy was among those who heard the whispers of a romantic relationship between Brackett and Dixie. _Boy, talk about opposites attracting…._

Personally, he was rooting for Dixie to soften the doc up.

"A penny for your thoughts, Sweetie," Joanne interrupted. "On the moon with Neil Armstrong?"

Roy chuckled. "Would you believe on earth with Nurse Dixie McCall and Dr. Kelly Brackett?" he asked.

Joanne laughed. "Are they on the grapevine?" she asked. She'd met Dixie, but not Brackett.

"I think they run the grapevine," Roy replied.

"Are you thinking again about what more you might do as a rescue man?" Joanne asked. Roy nodded.

He sighed. "Too often, it doesn't seem like enough," he said. "Not after what I experienced in Vietnam."

"You'll figure it out," said his wife with a smile, and kissed him on the cheek. "I suspect it won't involve landing on the moon."

 _The next day_

"DeSoto?"

"Yes, Cap?"

"Can you step into my office for a few minutes?"

"Sure."

Roy wondered what Captain Murphy wanted to talk to him about. He was surprised when he entered the office and saw Battalion Chief Conrad. He stood at attention.

"At ease, DeSoto," said Conrad, stepping forward to shake hands with Roy. "Have a seat."

"Yes, Sir."

"Do you know why you're here?"

"No, Sir."

Conrad sat back down. "The department has a new project it's working on," he said. "We'd like you to be a part of it."

"New project?" Roy was puzzled.

"Yes," Conrad said. "It's a paramedic program."

Roy thought for a moment. He'd been reading in the newspaper about studies of whether improved medical care on the scene could help those who were rescued. There was already a program in Miami, Florida. He mentioned that to Conrad. "Is that what it's about, Chief?" he asked.

"Yes, that's right," replied Conrad, looking pleased that Roy seemed to know about it. "You were a medic in Vietnam, right, DeSoto?"

"Yes, Chief."

"What did that involve, exactly?"

"Well, we learned how to give shots, start IVs and draw blood, treat various wounds," Roy said.

"Did you do so?" Conrad asked.

"A few times, yes," Roy responded. He hoped Conrad wouldn't ask him to go into details he would rather not recall.

Conrad just nodded. "That makes you perfect for this program, DeSoto – if you choose to enter."

Roy bit his lip in contemplation. "Really?" he asked. "Are doctors going to want firemen – uh, paramedics - to have that kind of responsibility?"

Conrad chuckled. "Well, we have caught flak from some doctors – but others are very receptive, including the Emergency staff at Harbor General. That's where the first class of paramedics will be trained."

The battalion chief watched the young man, who was deep in thought. "DeSoto, I know you and your wife are expecting soon."

"Yes, Chief." Roy beamed. "Next month."

"Well, the first class will begin in September," said Conrad with a smile. "So maybe you'll have gotten through those first midnight feedings by then."

Two calls made Roy put aside thoughts about the training program until his shift was over. He changed clothes, got into his Porsche and turned on the radio.

" _Guys talk…..girl talk…..It happens everywhere….."_

Roy frowned. He loved Andy Williams' music, but this song – "Music To Watch Girls By" – was about his least favorite. Too close to rock and roll for Roy's liking.

He ignored it and thought once more about the paramedic training. Was it what he wanted?

" _There'll be no raise in pay, at least as long as it's not officially approved,"_ Chief Conrad had warned him.

That wouldn't help him or Joanne with that new mouth they'd have to feed soon.

But the duties were exactly what he wanted. The ability to help save lives at the scene, rather than the constant roll of the dice on whether they'd get the patients to the hospital in time.

There would still be that challenge too many times, Roy knew. But at least the ability to provide some additional assistance would improve the odds.

If they were allowed to give that help….

"Honey, this seems to fit what you've been wanting to do, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, Joanne, but – "

"Are you thinking about the salary?" Joanne asked. Roy nodded.

"Well, Roy, if this law gets approved, and you're trained as a paramedic, you'll probably get more money, won't you?"

Roy smirked. "IF this law gets approved," he echoed. "Maybe." _Maybe._

"Well, they'll approve it at some point," Joanne assured her husband. "We just went to the moon, so you can't stop progress."

As Roy thought about this, Joanne rested her head on his shoulder. "Say, Roy. You're going to deliver babies if you're a paramedic, aren't you?"

"Maybe."

She grinned. "Maybe you'll get to practice on me," she joked.

"That's a scary thought," he joked back and kissed her head.

They were quiet for a moment. "So, when do you start the training?" Joanne asked slyly.

"September."

Roy paused a moment, then looked at his wife.

Joanne nodded. "Yes, Dear." She grinned. "You have committed yourself to this."


	2. Chapter 2

_September 12, 1969_

The lab coat felt strange to Roy. So did the blue tie.

So did the setting – the auditorium at Harbor General Hospital.

Roy and five other Los Angeles County firemen were part of the group that also included Inglewood and City of Los Angeles firemen and many nurses.

Much to his surprise, one of those nurses was Dixie McCall.

Roy smiled. "Dixie! You here for the training, too?"

"Well, don't let it spread around, Roy, but I don't know everything," replied Dixie with a smile.

"Your secret is safe with me," Roy teasingly assured her.

Dixie chuckled. "Actually, I'm here to see how the training is done," she said. "Rampart may be next on the list with paramedic training."

"You got Dr. Brackett to agree to it?" asked Roy, amazed.

Dixie shook her head. "Not yet. But I'm trying. Dr. Early certainly supports it." She sighed. "At least Kel agreed that I could come here and witness the training. I think he expects me to be a house spy."

"Does he really see us as that much of a threat?" Roy asked.

"I think the way he interprets it is as a threat because you 'hose jockeys,' as he puts it, won't know enough," Dixie said.

"Isn't that what this program is supposed to fix?"

Before Dixie could answer, another voice was heard from the front of the room.

"Good morning, Everyone….."

Roy gave a smile to Dixie and went to find a seat.

"Welcome to Mobile Intensive Care Paramedic Training. I'm Dr. Jim Parsons. Look at everyone on this stage and around you. You're going to become very familiar with each other during the next few weeks."

Soft chuckles could be heard.

"And now, let me introduce the other people on this stage," Parsons continued. The audience listened raptly as the Harbor General staff made their own introductions. Afterward, Parsons took over once again.

"Now, I know many of you already have a bit of classroom time," he said. "But hark back to your school days, because you're going to get classroom time on that level.

"After this little session is done, you're going to be broken up into much smaller groups to start those classroom sessions."

Roy and Dixie joined the line afterward. "I think it's going to take more time to find out where we're assigned than to actually attend the classes," Dixie grumbled.

After about five minutes, they finally reached the tables. "Looks like we're going to be classmates, Dixie," said Roy, looking at the paper. "You and six LA County firemen."

Actually, the class included Dixie and four other nurses and Inglewood firemen, as well as the Los Angeles County crew. Their instructor: Dr. Parsons.

The first task was collecting the textbooks. The nurses went first, followed by the firemen.

"You, uh, have all of this, don't you, Dixie?" Roy quipped.

"Don't start with me, Fireman DeSoto," Dixie grumbled teasingly. "If this goes into effect, you're going to have to be even nicer to me."

They all sat around a long table, with Parsons at the head.

"Firemen only answer this question: Who among you has any experience in treating the human body?" he asked.

Only Roy raised his hand.

Parsons smiled. "Introduce yourself, please, and talk about that experience."

Roy's eyes darted briefly around the room as he struggled with momentary terror. They rested on Dixie, who gave him an encouraging smile.

"My name is Roy DeSoto. I'm a fireman – a rescue man - at LA County Station 20," he began. "I served as a medic in Vietnam. We treated various wounds-"

"Under fire?" one of the Inglewood firemen interrupted.

"Uh, yes," Roy stammered. "Once the soldiers were wounded, we had to make them ready for transportation to the field hospitals. That meant stabilizing them."

"And that way, they'd be sent on to the field hospitals," Dixie picked up. She smiled at Dr. Parsons. "Excuse me for interrupting, Doctor. My name is Dixie McCall and I served in a Mobile Army Surgical Hospital during the Korean War. I'm the head emergency nurse at Rampart General Hospital."

Parsons smiled. "Please interrupt, Nurse McCall." He looked at the class. "I have to tell you all, she's a ringer. She's here because we're trying to get the Rampart staff to host some future training. But she'll do what you do- including the exam."

Dixie nodded at Parsons and continued.

"You are all going to be doing what the medics did in Vietnam – usually not under gunfire," she hastened to add. "But you will have difficult situations nonetheless – hysterical families, hysterical patients, weather issues and, of course, everything you already face as firemen."

"That's part of everything we already face as firemen," one of the Inglewood firemen joked. The group laughed.

Parsons chuckled. "Well, you've all got all those books you picked up this morning," he said. "But we're going to try to teach you these skills with an approach to as many real-life situations as possible. That's because it doesn't do you any good to know what lidocaine is if you don't know how to use it in a situation in which you have to keep your head when all about you are losing theirs.

"You already are a leg up on that because of, as you said, everything you face as firemen," Parsons continued. "That's going to help you become good paramedics."

During the first week, Parsons guided the firemen through the physiology of the human body. He couldn't hold back a few smiles at the looks on the men's faces – they ranged from utter confusion to downright horror.

"You know, guys, you're looking at anatomy, not 'Frankenstein,'" he joked.

"When I looked at anatomy in school, it was the girl sitting in front of me in science class," one fireman muttered. Roy, sitting nearby, couldn't help but chuckle.

Once again, he looked down at the illustrations. He actually liked learning about how the body worked.

It was the terminology he was having trouble with…..

"Have a headache, Sweetheart?"

Roy looked up from the book and smiled at his wife. Joanne was sitting in the brand new rocking chair, feeding tiny Christopher Michael DeSoto.

"Nothing I can't handle," he reassured her. "But this" – he pointed at the book – "is another story."

"Tough reading?"

"Tough words. Know what 'Anaphylaxis' is?"

Joanne grinned. "Sounds like an opera singer," she quipped.

Roy chuckled. "That's Anna Maria Alberghetti," he said. "Anaphylaxis is a severe allergic reaction. Anyway, that's the kind of terminology we're going to have to be able to communicate with hospital staff about – under all kinds of conditions." He paused. "A little different from 'take an inch and a half.'"

"And a lot different from Vietnam?" Joanne asked. Roy nodded.

"There, we just had to follow orders, basically – 'give this guy a shot,' and all that." Roy looked down. "There were times when I wasn't sure quite what we were giving them, just knew that we had to do it. At least I felt that way.

"Now, we're going to have to know chapter and verse – almost everything the doctor does, I guess. At least in the field."

"Small price to pay to save more lives, isn't it Roy?"

"It is, if I can figure out these words."


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks for all the reviews!_

Week 2 was devoted to equipment and medications.

"These are examples of the drugs you're going to be using on patients in the field," Parsons began. "Ringers lactate is given in intravenous form; it's basically a way of restoring patients' fluids.

"D5W – sounds like a license plate number, doesn't it?" Parsons asked. There were chuckles. "Well, it's 5 percent sugar in distilled water. Doesn't seem like much, but it's another life saver."

"Morphine – you, Fireman DeSoto, probably know a bit more about this drug." Roy nodded at Parsons' statement. "For better and for worse. It relieves pain, but it can be highly addictive if not used properly."

Indeed, Roy knew. He'd seen some instances in Vietnam, on follow-up, of wounded soldiers who'd become addicted to morphine.

"Lidocaine," Parsons broke into Roy's thoughts. "Used for heart patients…."

Slowly, for Roy, the verbal cobwebs began to lift.

"Next, we break each other's arms," Parsons joked.

The group of LA County firemen stood in a group. Parsons and Dixie were near them, preparing syringes with distilled water. The objective: The firemen were going to learn to give shots.

Well, most of the fireman. It was something Roy had done as a medic in Vietnam.

"Sorry to put you on the spot like this, Fireman DeSoto, but you're going to be first up," said Parsons, rolling up his sleeve. "You get to demonstrate on the teacher."

In Vietnam – even with enemy fire – giving a shot had come to be second nature to Roy. Now, in front of Dr. Parsons, Roy could swear his knees were knocking.

He took the alcohol swab and wiped down Parsons' arm. Then, he took the syringe in hand and did his job.

"Very smooth, Fireman DeSoto," said an impressed Parsons. "That's the way the Army does it."

Dixie McCall nodded in agreement.

Parsons led the group into the treatment room with a device that looked like something the astronauts might have carried to the moon. He walked over to it.

"This is the defibrillator," he said, pointing to it. "This may save you the most lives out in the field.

"It is used to restart the heart," he continued, while showing the group the procedure for using it safely – from placing the electrode cream on the paddles to the proper positioning to the tester, which everyone got to try.

On a coffee break, Dixie went over to join Roy.

"How're you holding up?" she asked.

He smiled. "I think the alphabet soup is starting to clear up," he joked.

"Glad to hear it," Dixie replied. "You know, I'm counting on you to pass this course and become a paramedic."

"Well, there are a few of us here, Dixie. We're all hoping to pass."

Dixie had a small smile. "It's a little different with you, Roy."

"I don't follow you, Dixie."

"You've had the experience in Vietnam," she began. "You also have the experience as a husband and a father. And in dealing with people. You're good with people, Roy."

"Thanks, but-"

Dixie cut him off. "You have to know the words – you do," she began. "And you have to know the medical procedures. But you have to know how to relate to your patients, too.

"There's a reason we use the term 'bedside manner,'" she continued with a grin. "A lot of doctors and nurses don't have it."

"Firefighters haven't really had to have much of it 'til now," Roy added. "It doesn't take much bedside manner to carry someone from a burning building."

"Until you know what kind of shape they're in," Dixie finished for him. "Until you know what treatment they need.

"Roy, the best paramedics aren't just going to be people who know the terminology and the proper procedures and medications. They're going to be the ones who can give their patients the intangible – the reassurance that they're going to be OK," she added.

Roy frowned. "And if they're not going to be OK?" he asked.

Dixie had a sad smile. "Then they're the ones who also know how to be very good liars," she said.


	4. Chapter 4

Week 3: Etiquette.

"Rule Number 1: Don't get emotionally involved with your patients."

Parsons leaned back and looked at the class.

"You're going to hear that over and over again," he said. "You're going to repeat that to yourselves over and over again. You're going to repeat that to others over and over again.

"And you're still going to break that rule not once, but many times," he continued. "Because you're a human being. Because you'll want to help these people.

"The question is how you break that rule…..Do you find a kid's lost dog? Do you water a person's plants? Do you take someone into your house if you've treated them or a family member? These are things you're going to have to think about. And it's not easy."

Roy frowned at Parsons' statement. _If it's not easy, like he says, how come he tells us it's Rule 1?_

He didn't want to ask the question out loud in front of the others, but made it a point to corner Parsons during a break.

"Dr. Parsons, can I ask you about Rule Number 1?"

Parsons chuckled. "I figured that would get some attention," he said. "What do you want to know?"

"Have you ever had to worry about it as a doctor?" Roy asked. "Because at least you're inside a hospital. As a paramedic, I suppose I'd deal with all sorts of people in all sorts of situations-"

"And don't think I live in a bubble just because I work in a hospital, Roy," Parsons responded with a chuckle. "Not even the astronauts going to the moon live in a bubble."

He stopped and saw the concerned look on the young firefighter's face.

"I know – this is serious for you," Parsons said. Roy nodded.

Parsons put an arm around Roy's shoulders. He smiled.

"I wouldn't worry about it so much," Parsons said. "Yes, the issues are going to come up. But I've heard a lot about you, DeSoto. I think you'll handle them in a way that you can live with."

E! E! E! E! E! E! E!

"Now comes manners training," Parsons began when the break was over. Laughter filled the room.

"Some of you have experienced a bit of this. But as paramedics, you're going to go into even more houses, shops, schools and so forth than you ordinarily would. As you know, you will have all sorts of crazy situations. So you're going to have to work even harder on keeping your cool."

Parsons had a wicked grin. "So we're going to do this with role playing."

In the first scenario, Roy was teamed with one of the Inglewood firemen as a paramedic team responding to the scene of a car crash. Two nurses played the victims in one car; another LA County firefighter was the driver of the other car. Dixie played the nurse at the hospital base.

"Just to give Kel Brackett at Rampart a reason to sweat, identify yourself as a Harbor General nurse, Dixie," Parsons teased her.

"My pleasure," Dixie responded with a smile.

The LA County rescue men looked at one another with knowing grins. Somehow, this was going to get back to Dr. Brackett – who wouldn't be the least bit pleased.

"OK, go," Parsons said.

Roy and the Inglewood fireman raced over to the scene of the "accident" – actually two mats representing the twisted cars.

The Inglewood fireman attended to the male "victim" while Roy went to the females.

"Help! Help us, please!" one of the nurses called.

Roy carried two plastic containers – one representing the communications they would have with hospitals, the other representing the drug box. He put them down and kneeled next to one of the female "victims."

"How are you doing?" he asked one of the women.

The nurse did a good acting job. "You're supposed to tell me that, wise guy," she said, through clenched teeth.

Roy smiled. "Yes, I am," he said. "Give me a chance to check you out for a moment."

From one of the boxes, Roy took out a blood pressure cuff and a stethoscope. Roy proceeded to take the "victim's" blood pressure and got the respirations and pulse.

"Do you have any pain?" Roy asked. Immediately, he silently cursed himself. _That's the first thing I should have asked her!_

"Yes, my head and chest hurt!" she replied. "I think I hit my head on the steering wheel. But check my sister; she's much worse!"

Roy went to check the second woman. The nurse was feigning unconsciousness.

"Nurse Palmer, you do a good imitation of someone who's comatose," Parsons couldn't help interrupting. That got a laugh from everyone – including "paramedics" and "patients."

The diversion helped get Roy refocused. He felt for a pulse, took the penlight and checked the "comatose patient's" eyes – the nurse looked down in order to help make things more realistic – and took her blood pressure, pulse and respiration.

"How's she doing?" the other nurse, in character, asked urgently.

"We're checking her out right now," Roy answered in a voice he hoped sounded reassuring, even as the answer was noncommittal.

"What have you got?" he called to the Inglewood fireman.

"Not too bad here," the other fireman said. "How about you?"

"One is unconscious; the other is complaining of head and chest pain," Roy said. "I'm going to call into Harbor General."

Roy reached into one of the plastic boxes and pulled out an old office telephone. Not exactly the new, portable phone he'd heard and read about.

Roy shook his head and lifted the handset. "Harbor General, this is LA County Rescue," he said.

"Go ahead, LA," Dixie responded from across the room. She stood next to another retired phone that was supposed to represent the communications bay.

"We have three patients at a car accident. One has been treated for minor injuries. The second is conscious, but complaining of head and chest pain," Roy began. "The third is unconscious."

"Oh, God, get me something for the pain!" the "victim" with the head and chest pain suddenly cried out.

Roy turned to her. "We'll do what we can, Ma'am," he said.

"Can we give her something?" the Inglewood fireman whispered to Roy, who shook his head.

"Head injury," Roy mouthed. "Both of 'em."

"LA County, do you read?" Dixie asked. "Can you provide more detail on the unconscious patient?"

"Uh, yes, Harbor General," Roy stammered. "She does not respond to visual stimulation. Her pulse is thready and her breathing labored."

"What's her blood pressure?" Dixie asked.

Roy silently cursed himself. _I'm just sinking in front of everyone._

He re-took the blood pressure. "BP 90 over 60 for Patient 1," he said. "Stand by for Patient 2."

He moved over to the "conscious" woman, took her vitals and relayed them.

"Can you give me something for the pain?" the woman asked.

"You've had a head injury," Roy said. "We'll do what we can to make you comfortable."

"I'll get the oxygen," the Inglewood fireman said. He grabbed the equipment from across the room.

Dixie said, "LA, 10 liters of oxygen for Patient 1. Also start an IV with D5W for both patients, TKO, and transport immediately."

"10-4, Harbor General," Roy replied.

"OK, stop," Parsons called out. "First of all, a round of applause for our cast here." Roy and the others stood – all blushing slightly – as people clapped.

Parsons grinned wickedly. "Now, we start tearing into you," he joked. Everyone laughed.

"OK, first, what did the paramedics do correctly?" he asked the group.

"No morphine," one voice rang out.

"Right," Parsons said. "Because….."

"Head injuries," another voice said.

"Correct," Parsons said. "No pain relieving drugs for head injuries. Repeat that to yourselves a million times if you have to. Get it tattooed on your chest – well, maybe not the nurses."

The group laughed.

"What else?" Parsons asked.

"He tried to reassure the patient," called out a fireman, who looked at Roy.

"Yes, he did," Parsons agreed. "You have a good 'carside manner,' Fireman DeSoto."

"Uh, thanks." Roy blushed. He avoided looking at Dixie.

"As for what you could have done better-" Parsons began.

"Be faster on reading the vitals?" Roy asked.

Parsons nodded. "Yeah. Those three stats – blood pressure, pulse and respiration – will tell a lot of the story to the doctor. But don't be tough on yourself."

Roy frowned. "What do you mean, Dr. Parsons?"

Parsons grinned. "I have a feeling you think you should have told Nurse McCall those things even before mentioning anything else."

Roy blushed. "Yeah."

Parsons chuckled. "The doctor has to know a few other things besides the three. Now, if you open up communications with those three things, and nothing else, the doctor does have an idea of whether the patient is in good shape or not. But why is her pulse fast? Does she have trauma, or is she in love?"

The class laughed.

"Sometimes both at the same time," one fireman shot out, prompting even louder laughter.

"Especially if she's involved with a fireman," a nurse shot back.

Parsons continued laughing. "OK, class," he said. "I think this scene is over. Good job, all of you."

"Jo?"

Joanne smiled. "Chris woke up and woke me up, too."

"Oh, honey." Roy looked pensive. "I should have-"

Joanne kissed her husband's cheek. "Don't worry. You've got a big test tomorrow. Finished studying? You should get a good night's rest."

"I guess I should," Roy replied.

"After all, no rest for the weary paramedic," Joanne teased.

Roy smiled and kissed his wife. "Thanks for the note of good luck."

Joanne ruffled her husband's hair. "I have faith in you, Fireman DeSoto."


	5. Chapter 5

_NOTE: Marco Lopez, who played the like-named fireman at Station 51, was also featured as one of the paramedic students in the pilot. In a Season 1 episode, Roy referred to Marco as "Bells."_

 _The next day….._

"Pencils down."

Roy expelled a breath and put down his pencil. He'd been in the process of reviewing his answers.

As a secretary collected the exams and pencils, Roy looked around and joined the others getting up.

"Care to buy a nurse some coffee?" Dixie asked.

"Certainly." Roy led the way to Harbor General's cafeteria. "How do you think you did, Dix?"

"Well enough to keep my job," Dixie replied.

"Yeah, but you didn't have to take this test," Roy said.

"Well, I do need to know what's on it," Dixie answered. "Anyway, it's a way-"

"-To convince Dr. Brackett of the good of the program," Roy finished.

"Well, it will be if you guys do well."

E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!

 _The following week_

Roy and Deke backed Squad 20 into the station. Deke was still laughing over their latest rescue – a little girl afraid to go down a slide at a nearby park. It had been classified "Unknown-type rescue" by Dispatch.

"It happens, Deke," Roy said.

"I know," Deke agreed. "It is still kind of funny, though."

Roy shrugged. "Say, Deke, how come you didn't want to try for the paramedic program?"

Deke shook his head. "Too new. Too many unknowns. You're the brave one, Roy."

"Don't know about that," Roy responded.

They walked into the day room. Captain Murphy looked up.

"Little girl all right?" he asked. Both rescue men nodded.

"Good," Murphy said. "DeSoto, I've got some news for you. You passed your paramedic exam." He grinned. "Actually, you aced it. Congratulations."

Stunned, Roy swallowed hard. Deke grinned and patted him on the back.

"There's more," Murphy continued. "Roy, Chief Sorenson would like to see you at headquarters as soon as you get off shift tomorrow."

Roy finally found his voice. "Yes, Cap."

E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!

Los Angeles County Deputy Chief Arthur Sorenson, who had been assigned to oversee the paramedic program, had a military bearing about him; in fact, he had served in the Army during World War 2. Despite that, he was eminently approachable. That was the sense Roy got when he entered Sorenson's office.

"Sit down, DeSoto," invited Sorenson, extended a hand to shake Roy's "Would you like some coffee?"

"No thank you, Chief," replied Roy, almost at as much of a loss for words as he had been when Captain Murphy informed him about this meeting.

Sorenson sat down and opened a folder that rested in front of him. "You did very well on this exam, DeSoto. In fact, you finished at the top of the class."

"Yes, that's what Captain Murphy said," Roy responded.

Sorenson smiled. "I'm not sure if you're going to like the graduation present we have for you, and actually you don't have to accept it if you don't want to."

Roy looked puzzled. "What kind of graduation present, Chief?"

"Well, we want you to recruit the second class of paramedics, and join and assist in supervising them in their training at Rampart."

"Oh." Roy considered this a moment.

"It would be good for the paramedics in the second group to see and work with someone who's been through it," Sorenson said. "There's another factor, too."

"What factor?" Roy asked.

Sorenson leaned back in his chair. "I'm sure you've heard that Dr. Kelly Brackett, Rampart's Emergency chief, isn't crazy about the idea of paramedics."

Roy grinned. "I've heard he opposes the idea entirely."

Sorenson chuckled and nodded. "That's true. Anyway, I think you could help in persuading him to change his mind – not with direct persuasion, but with your work with the second class."

Roy nodded. "And that includes picking the class?"

"Or having the class pick you, as it were….As we did with you and the first graduates, we're going once again to many of the rescue men across LA County, giving them a chance to sign up. We want to give them a week to sign up before classes begin at Rampart," Sorenson said. "What we would do is set you up in an office here at headquarters throughout next week. Anyone could come in and ask you questions."

"What about my duties, Chief?" Roy asked.

"You'll have fill-ins at your station, and you can participate in training exercises with the staff we have here," Sorenson replied. He smiled. "Consider it a semi-vacation – with pay."

Roy chuckled. "Well, Chief, when you put it that way, it compels me to accept."

Sorenson reached forward to shake Roy's hand. "Good. Thanks, Roy."

E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!

 _Monday_

Roy sat behind the desk of the simple office. The view outside was pretty good: Mt. Wilson. Below that, there was the air conditioning window unit and the radiator. In front of him, a brown desk, a black chair and a blank wall.

In red pencil, he had posted a simple sign on the frosted-glass door: "Paramedic questions answered here. Roy DeSoto, FM."

As he waited to see whether anyone would show up, Roy perused the training schedule at Rampart, which was similar to what he had gone through at Harbor General. He guessed Dixie had played a major role in that.

Roy heard a tap on the door. "Come in," he called.

The door opened, and Roy did a double take.

At first, he thought it was Marco Lopez, the lineman at Station 3 known as "Bells" for his five-alarm – yet tasty – chili.

It turned out to be Emilio Rodriguez, a rescue man at Station 1. Rodriguez looked enough like Lopez that the two could be twins.

"Hello," Rodriguez called out.

"Come in," Roy responded. "Sit down."

Rodriguez did and presented his application to Roy, who read it.

Rodriguez had started with the fire department in 1961 and had become a rescue man in 1967 – the same year as Roy.

Roy figured the other man had the same yearning to save lives as he did, but he was going to ask, just the same. "What makes you want to join the paramedic program, Rodriguez?"

Rodriguez smiled. "Not just saving lives," he said. "Saving lives in my community."

"Go on," Roy prompted.

"Do you know how many things happen in East L.A.?" Rodriguez continued. "And that's without all the shootings and stabbings."

Roy nodded.

"Plus, there's the language issue, especially for the older people or for people who just arrived here. Very often, they have trouble communicating with the firemen on an engine or squad," Rodriguez said.

"That's true," Roy agreed. He remembered some instances he'd been involved in when it was difficult or impossible to get a translator. He wondered if he should recommend Spanish classes for firemen to Chief Sorenson or anyone else at headquarters.

"I want to take care of my community," Rodriguez said.

"So if you pass this class and the paramedic bill passes-" Roy began.

"I want to stay with my station, if I can," Rodriguez finished the sentence.

"I should tell you that graduates of the second paramedic class will be paired up with graduates of the first class, and I can guarantee that there are no Spanish speakers in the first class," Roy warned.

Rodriguez smiled. "That's all right," he said. "I can teach him."

Roy chuckled. "All right," he said. "See you for the first class at Rampart next week."

E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!

 _Friday_

Roy looked over the list as he waited to see whether anyone else would come on this last day. He'd been visited by about 25 men throughout the week. Most had asked questions, but decided the program wasn't for them, at least not yet.

Besides Emilio Rodriguez, four other men had signed up. Tuesday had brought two. The first was Sonny Stone, a rescue man at Station 8. Stone – "Stoney," as many firemen knew him – had grown up in Watts, right down the street from Mike Morton, now a young intern at Rampart General.

Not only did Stone ask Roy about the paramedic program, but also about family life. Stone was dating a young teacher named Connie White. Roy patiently answered those questions, too, and had one of his own.

"Are you thinking of marrying her?" Roy asked with a grin.

Stone smiled. "I've been thinking of marrying her since the day we met in eighth grade," he said.

Roy chuckled. "I've known my wife since the fourth grade," he said.

"Then you do know what it's like," Stone responded.

E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!

The second sign-up on Tuesday was Bob Bellingham, a rescue man at Station 24. Nice guy, but Roy couldn't help but wince when he thought about Bellingham's appearance when he came in. Part of his shirt hung outside his pants, there was a mustard stain on one shirt pocket, and Roy reeled when he smelled cigar smoke. Firemen called Bellingham "The Animal," and it was easy to understand why.

But Bellingham's curiosity and knowledge were impressive. Roy just hoped the other man could adjust to the sterile conditions required for paramedic care.

E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!

Dennis Hanlon, a rescue man at Station 33, signed up on Wednesday. Good guy, young and, perhaps, a possibility for Roy to team with. Hanlon was a newlywed.

Thursday brought the mustachioed Jim Brewer. Besides being a good rescue man, Brewer had another talent: He sang at a local country-and-western bar when he was off-duty.

So there were five men signed up for the paramedic class, with one spot still available.

Roy looked at his watch. It was getting close to lunchtime, and a full meal was a luxury not often available when he was on duty. He started thinking about the chicken salad sandwich Joanne had made for him when the door opened.

A young, dark-haired man poked his head in. "Hello," he greeted Roy.

Roy stood up, lunch forgotten for now. He hoped this was the final recruit. "Come on in," he said.

The young man came in. He was about as tall as Roy, wearing a khaki-colored shirt and pants. He reached out with a confident grip and shook Roy's hand, looking him straight in the eye. Roy had a feeling this fellow meant business.

He knew it for sure when the man introduced himself.

"I'm John Gage, Station 10."


	6. Chapter 6

John Gage.

Roy had never really met him, but he'd heard plenty about this young rescue man.

Joined the fire academy soon after graduating from high school. Graduated from the academy at the top of his class. Became a rescue man for 10s just one year after his probationary period ended. Fine fireman and rescue man, very cool in a crisis.

Then there was the other John Gage he'd heard about – the one who was around when the tones didn't sound.

Free spirit. Scatterbrained. Rode a motorcycle and had a camper. Loved to chase the ladies.

Today, Roy was looking at the first John Gage – all-business - who handed him his application.

Roy looked through it and noticed the blank last line.

" _This application isn't signed."_

" _I wanted to talk to you first….."_

E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!

"… _If there's one chance in a million that bill will pass, we have to be ready_."

Roy had tried everything to convince this man to sign up. Maybe it was wanting to get the class filled, or waiting to get his lunch.

Roy had a feeling there was a deeper reason for the selling job he was trying to do with Gage. Knowing the other man had done his homework on the paramedic program clinched it.

Gage thought a moment – a moment that seemed like an hour to Roy as he awaited the other man's decision.

" _Use your pen?"_ Gage asked.

Roy grinned and Gage fished a silver and green pen out of the glass.

Inwardly, Roy breathed a sigh of relief as Gage signed. His job here was complete. And this class – especially Gage, with all his questions – was going to be interesting to watch.

E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!

Two weeks in, Roy was having flashbacks to his own class at Harbor General…with one exception. He missed Dr. Parson's warm approach to teaching, though Rampart's Dr. Joe Early came close.

It was clear, though, that Dr. Kelly Brackett was the one in command. He wasn't making things easy.

Roy remembered Sonny Stone's response to Brackett's question about compound fractures bringing concerns about infections. Stone had mentioned an injection of penicillin. Brackett had tersely mentioned it possibly stopping infection – but also the chance of it killing someone who was allergic.

Roy knew that somewhere deep down, under his objections to the paramedic program, Brackett's throwing up of barriers also had a purpose: The doctor was testing these young men, trying to find out if they could walk through medical fires as well as real ones.

Roy admitted to himself that he was testing them, too – one in particular.

The rest of the students were easy to figure out, but John Gage was a puzzle. Bold and brash, curious about the medical procedures and terms, not squeamish about the human body – yet reluctant to submit himself to being injected under the ultimate sterile medical conditions.

" _Relax the arm, pal. It's sterile water, not heroin,"_ Roy had told a wincing Gage upon demonstrating the injection.

John Gage was a friendly sort, having greeted all of his classmates warmly. But where most of the recruits had treated Roy with the deference of a pioneer, Gage treated him, well, the way he treated the others who wore L.A. County blue – in this case, with white lab coats. As an equal.

Gage had already picked Roy's brain about Brackett and Dixie, and Roy had found himself in a few other casual conversations. Roy tried to recall the last time any fireman outside his own fire station had been curious about anything he'd done. It had been a while.

And when had Roy ever given anyone a nickname? Now, he'd taken to calling Gage "Junior."

 _Where did that come from? And why? I mean, after this training program, we might get other partners._

He looked up to see the object of his thoughts engaged in a different kind of curiosity. Gage was leaning casually over a counter, chatting with Nurse Dolores Sutton. Both had big grins.

"He doesn't waste any time," Roy heard behind him, and turned to face Dixie.

Roy watched. "I've heard about this," he said.

"Well, now you get to see it in action," Dixie replied. "Johnny's not always successful, but he's always persistent. Judging by Dolores' reaction, though, he seems to have hit pay dirt this time."

They watched the pair for a few moments longer. "How long have you known him?" Roy asked.

"As long as he's been a rescue man," Dixie said. "He's the most unusual combination of brashness and shyness I've ever seen. Perfectly willing to brag about how he's going to date a nurse. But give him a legitimate compliment and he turns into a turtle going back into its shell."

"Or give him an injection," Roy added. Dixie smiled.

They saw Gage walking away from Dolores. The young trainee grinned at Dixie. "Saturday night, a date with Dolores," he said.

"Congratulations," Roy couldn't help saying. "So, back to class for some professional achievements?"

Right then, Roy saw a perfect illustration of Dixie's words, as Gage's expression turned from confidence to embarrassment in five seconds.

E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!

"Let's hear more," Joanne said.

"Well, two are the best of the lot," Roy replied. He smiled as he watched his wife spoon-feed Chris in his high chair.

"You've spoken about Sonny Stone…." Joanne prompted.

"Yeah. He's going to be a captain at some point," Roy said. "He's very take-charge, and the other guys respect him."

"And the other one?"

Roy thought a moment. "His name is John Gage."

"And?"

"Well, he's terrific-"

Joanne noted some hesitation in her husband's tone. "The other guys don't respect him?" she wondered.

"No, they do."

"Future captain?"

"Well, not yet," Roy replied. "He's young. Very young."

Joanne frowned. "How young?"

"He graduated from the fire academy several years ago."

"And he's a rescue man?"

"Yeah." Roy nodded. "A good one."

Joanne noted the expression on her husband's face and sighed. "Uh-oh. You want him as your paramedic partner, don't you?"

"I think so."

"Roy, I will get to meet him, won't I?"

"Of course." Roy kissed her. "I just have to confirm that he'll be the right partner for me."

E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!

Gathered in the Rampart auditorium, the paramedic class was greeted by Dr. Early and Dixie.

"Well, Dr. Brackett had emergency surgery, so he won't be joining us for this role-playing session," Dixie said.

Roy had mixed feelings. He wasn't sure whether Brackett's anti-paramedic stance could have been turned around by the role-playing session – or just reinforced by it.

"But we managed to scrounge up a pretty good substitute," Dixie continued. "In fact, he's returned to the pediatric staff here, where he was a few years ago."

In walked Dr. Parsons, much to Roy's delight.

"How are you, Roy?" asked Parsons, shaking the other man's hand. "Glad you're helping out here."

"Thanks Doc," Roy said.

"How about we try teaming folks up, starting with you," Parsons said. "Want to pick an unsuspecting cohort to work with you?"

 _Now was as good a time as any for a tryout._ "How about you, Gage?" Roy asked.

"Sure thing," responded Gage, standing up to join Roy.

Dixie and Dr. Early had recruited various Rampart nurses and orderlies to play the necessary roles.

"OK, folks, here's the scene," Parsons said. "DeSoto and Gage are responding to an apartment building collapse. Most of the people got out, but a man and woman are still stuck in one section. You have to see how they're doing while you and the engine crew are trying to free them. The woman is unconscious. The man has breathing issues. For these purposes, you are Squad Alpha. Roy, you'll recognize our futuristic communications equipment."

Roy and Gage both grinned.

"OK, gentlemen – GO!" Parsons called.

Gage went over to the "unconscious" woman, Roy to the man. Gage took out the penlight. "Sorry," he whispered softly to the nurse playing the role. Roy successfully resisted a laugh.

The all-business Gage came back quickly. "Pupils are dilated," he said. "Looks like a concussion." He tried a prick to a foot; she moaned softly. "Reaction to pain stimuli," he continued.

Meanwhile, Roy took the man's blood pressure, pulse and respiration. "How are you feeling?" he asked the orderly playing this patient's role.

"Having … trouble….breathing," the man responded. Roy took the stethoscope and listened to his heart and lungs. Maybe a pneumothorax.

"You got the BP cuff?" Gage asked.

"Here. You got the phone?" Roy asked Gage.

"Yeah." Gage exchanged the phone for the blood pressure cuff and took the vitals of his "victim."

Roy, meanwhile, got on the phone. "Rampart, this is Squad Alpha."

"Go ahead, Alpha," Early replied.

"We're in a building collapse with two patients. Both are still being extricated, but we do have vitals." Roy went ahead with the vitals of his victim. "Patient A has trouble breathing, is short of breath."

Early turned to Dixie. "Possible pneumothorax," he said. Dixie nodded.

Roy continued with the vitals Gage gave him. "Patient B is unconscious, but does respond to pain stimuli."

"Squad Alpha, go ahead with lactated ringers for Patient B," Early said. "In addition, provide 10 liters of oxygen for Patient A. Update me with vitals when the two are out."

"10-4 Rampart," Roy responded.

Roy and Gage looked at Parsons. "Keep going," he said. "By now, you've gotten the patients out, and they've gotten the treatment. She's OK, but he's going sour."

Gage grabbed the phone this time. "Rampart, Squad Alpha. We have an update," he said, relaying the scenario Parsons had given them.

"Continue with oxygen on Patient A," Early responded. "What is your ETA, Squad Alpha?"

"15 minutes, Rampart," Gage responded.

"Continue with current treatment and monitor both patients," Early said.

"10-4, Rampart."

"OK, you'd both need to go in with the patients in the ambulance," Parsons interrupted. "On the way in, Patient A goes into cardiac arrest."

Gage picked up the phone again. "Rampart, we have ventricular fibrulation."

"Defibrillate, at 400-watt seconds," Early responded.

Roy picked up the paddles of the tester while Gage applied the electrode cream. _It's not an aspirin;_ both men seemed to hear Brackett's voice in their ears.

Roy rubbed the paddles and placed them on the orderly, then switched back to the tester. Gage pushed the button and waited for the count. "CLEAR!" Roy called, and went through the motion of countershock.

Gage looked at the monitor; the tester had been prepared for the situation. "No conversion," he said. He relayed this to Rampart.

"Squad Alpha, apply 2 amps sodium bicarb," Early responded.

Roy took the syringe – no needle, since this was role-playing - and went through the motions. He and Gage repeated their actions with the defibrillator.

"Sinus rhythm," Gage responded. He picked up the phone to communicate that to Early.

"Squad Alpha, continue monitoring and transport," Early said.

"10-4, Rampart," Gage said.

"And stop," Parsons chimed in.

Gage and Roy both let out a "Whew," and glanced at each other. They both chuckled.

"So what do you think, class?" Parsons asked.

Sonny Stone raised his hand.

"I think we're looking at the first official paramedic team," Stone said.

Parsons chuckled. "Wouldn't be a bad idea," he said. "You guys work well together."


	7. Chapter 7

"So it's confirmed?" Joanne asked her husband that night.

"Not exactly. He still has to pass the test," Roy reminded her. "Anyway, I haven't asked him yet, and I wouldn't do so unless he does pass. The test is in a couple of weeks."

Joanne frowned. "You're not taking it again, are you?"

Roy shook his head. "No way. Actually, the day they take their test, I have another visit to make."

E! E! E! E! E! E! E! E! E! E! E! E! E! E! E! E!

 _Headquarters_

"Come on in, Roy," Chief Sorenson said. He smiled. "You get to try this equipment out. What do you think?"

Roy grinned. "I feel like one of the astronauts," he said.

Sorenson laughed.

"Chief, what about my classmates? Will they be informed about this?" Roy asked.

"Yes. There will be a meeting with the other five paramedics once this class has been completed. That will include selections of a partner from this second group. Do you have someone in mind?"

Roy nodded. "Yes."

"Good," Sorenson replied. "Once that happens, you and your partner will be reassigned to a new station – Station 51, just completed in Carson. Your captain will be Dick Hammer."

Roy thought a moment. He would have a few people to talk to – starting with Joanne and including Deke, Captain Murphy and all the guys at Station 20.

And, assuming he didn't flub the test, Gage.

Sorenson broke into his thoughts. "Ready to look at the equipment?"

"Yes, Chief."

Sorenson led Roy to the parking lot. There was a brand-new squad, with the words "Los Angeles County Fire Department Rescue Squad" surrounding the circle, which had "51" written on it.

Roy's mouth opened. He refrained from saying the "Wow" that formed.

"Yes, this is the squad you will be using with your paramedic partner," Sorenson said. He took a key out of his pocket and handed it to Roy. "You can open the compartments. The one on the passenger's side will have the majority of the equipment."

Roy unlocked that compartment. Inside were seven pieces of equipment – pieces Roy had seen at Harbor General and Rampart.

The first one that caught his eye was on the top shelf. "O.B.," the large wooden case said. Roy smiled. It was the kit for delivering babies. He thought briefly about Joanne and Chris.

Next to the O.B. kit was the Datascope heart monitor; next to that was the fishing tackle-type box that was to contain all the medications the paramedics would use – assuming, of course, that the bill passed.

The large cases on the bottom shelf said "I.V." The fragile glass bottles containing important fluids rested in there. Roy knew that much lighter, plastic intravenous units were in development; Dr. Early had said they might be available within a year.

Next to the I.V. case was the other part of the defibrillator. Roy briefly thought about the role-playing he and John Gage had done.

The red case beat the toy telephone that had been used in role-playing – by miles. It was a Biophone – a mechanism that could be used to contact various hospitals and even transmit heart telemetry.

Oh, to use these things…..

E! E! E! E! E! E! E! E! E! E! E! E! E! E! E! E!

 _The next day_

"Roy!"

Donald Kent – "Deke," as everyone called him – ran up to his rescue partner.

"Came back to say hello – or is it goodbye?"

Roy looked down. Deke smiled.

"No, Roy, don't feel guilty. You earned this."

Roy looked at the other man.

"Earned the lowest stature in the county?" he asked Deke.

"Just for now," Deke said. "While that bill is going through. But you're a pioneer, Roy. You should be proud. And we're still friends, no matter where you go. And our wives, too." Susan Kent was best friends with Joanne.

Roy had a small smile. "Thanks, Deke."

He looked down and saw his friend's extended hand. Roy shook it.

"Don't forget, you work your first overtime with me," Deke teased.

Roy laughed. "You bet."

E! E! E! E! E! E! E! E! E! E! E! E! E! E! E! E!

" _51s. A brand new station._ _If you play your cards right, I'll let you team up with me."_

Roy remembered John Gage's words to Dixie at the graduation of the second paramedic class: _"He needs me."_

Roy wondered about that. Did he really **need** this man? He was about to find out.

Roy had gotten to Keller's Diner a half-hour early, just to have time to think.

He was still mulling the two John Gages in his mind when he heard a voice.

"Roy?"

He looked up, then back at his watch. The young man was 20 minutes early.

"Have a seat," Roy motioned. "Want some coffee?"

Gage grinned. "Sure," he said, immediately grabbing the menu as he sat. "You order yet?"

"No, not yet. I was waiting for you."

Gage considered this. "Huh," he said.

Roy frowned. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"No, I just thought it was interesting that you didn't order," Gage said.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I've been on dates where I met them at the restaurants and the girls, they just went ahead and ordered before I got there."

Roy frowned. "Really?" he asked. _Strange way for a date to behave._

"Well, some girls are like that."

Roy pondered Gage's answer for a moment, then decided to dismiss it. He had a feeling he was going to be doing that a lot in this partnership.

Waitress Hattie O'Doul, who seemed to know even more firefighters than the Chief, walked up to them. "Roy DeSoto and John Gage!" she exclaimed. "Is what I'm hearing true? Are you two going to be working at the same station?"

"Yeah, Hattie, as paramedics," Gage said.

"Helping doctors, right?" Hattie responded.

"We hope so!" Roy said.

"And when we do, we're going to ask the Chief to let you into the department, since you know so much," Gage added with his big grin.

Hattie smiled and patted Gage on the shoulder. "Johnny, you're such a flirt! If I was 30 years younger and didn't have the greatest husband in the world….."

Gage faked a glum look. "Awww, Hattie, I was just about to ask you out for Saturday night!" he teased.

Hattie laughed. "You're wonderful for a girl's ego, Johnny," she said with a smile as she took out her pad and pen. "OK, what do you boys want?"

"I'll have the big stack with bacon and eggs – and a big glass of milk," Gage said.

Hattie grinned. "That's it?"

Gage frowned a moment, then smiled back at her and chuckled. "That's it for now, Hattie."

"That's about enough," Roy muttered, awed at the younger man's big appetite.

"Huh?"

"Uh, just looking over the menu," Roy said, as Hattie stifled a chuckle. She'd heard exactly what he said.

"Bacon and eggs, Hattie, and some more coffee," Roy continued.

"Be back in a flash," Hattie responded with a smile.

Gage looked back at Roy. "So how's your family?" he asked.

"Good," Roy replied. "Ready to meet them?"

Gage almost choked on the glass of water Hattie had put on the table. "Meet them?" he repeated.

"Sure! We're going to be working together, so you might as well."

This time, Gage took a sip of his water, since his throat suddenly felt dry. "Uh, when? How?"

Roy smiled. "Well, Joanne can make dinner Saturday night, before we go in Monday morning. You can bring Delores, if you want."

"Uh, I think she's on shift Saturday night."

"Too bad," said Roy, now pausing to sip his water. Secretly, he was glad, since he wanted Joanne and Gage to meet without any added distractions.

"What time Saturday?"

"How about 7?"

"OK."


	8. Chapter 8

_That Saturday_

"C'mere, little guy," Roy said as he got down on his knees and picked up Christopher DeSoto. He frowned slightly. "Jo, what's on his face?"

Joanne leaned over. "Apple sauce," she replied with a smile. She grabbed a tissue from a nearby box and wiped Chris' face.

Roy leaned over and kissed her. "Thanks, Ma'am," he said with a grin.

The ringing doorbell interrupted them. "Must be him," said Roy as he stood up, still holding Chris.

Roy opened the door to Gage, carrying two boxes and a bouquet.

"Hi!" Roy said. "Can we help you with that?"

"Well, part of it's for all of you," Gage replied.

"I guess the bouquet's for Joanne," Roy responded.

Joanne smiled. "I'll help you with that," she said, removing the bouquet from on top of the boxes. "Thank you, Mr. Gage."

"Uh, you're welcome. Um…..you can call me Johnny." Gage's red face contrasted with the white boxes.

He recovered quickly, though. "The top box is for this little guy," he added, smiling at Chris. The infant laughed.

"I think that's his way of saying 'Thank you,'" Roy said.

"Oh, the third box is a cake," Gage continued. "The lady recommended angel food cake…." He stopped again when he realized what he'd said.

"Well, whoever recommended it, I'm sure it's good," replied Joanne, taking the two boxes and putting them on the table. "Please sit down, Johnny."

"Uh, thank you." Gage looked around and dropped into the comfortable-looking couch. Roy sat down next to him, putting Chris in his lap.

Joanne opened the top box and took out a stuffed giraffe. She walked over to the couch and crouched down in front of Roy and Chris. "Look what Uncle Johnny brought you," she said, waving the giraffe at her son.

Shocked, Gage looked up at Roy, who was just as amazed. Together, they both mouthed " _Uncle Johnny_?"

Joanne didn't see this interaction. "Can you say, 'Thank you, Uncle Johnny?'" she asked, picking up Chris.

Gage delivered his full, toothy grin. "You're welcome, Chris," he said, reaching out with his hand and "shaking" Chris DeSoto's small hand. Chris laughed.

Joanne handed the giraffe to Chris, who gripped it. "Hi Chris," said Gage in a raised voice, as if doing a voice for the giraffe. "I'm your friend, Goofy Giraffe."

Chris laughed as Roy and Joanne exchanged a glance.

"Sweetie, I'll help you with the salad," Roy said. He turned to Gage. "Can you stay with him a moment?"

Gage grinned. "Sure!" he exclaimed. He turned back to Chris with the giraffe. "Have you seen me at the zoo, Chris?" he asked in the "Goofy Giraffe" voice.

Joanne gently put Chris on the floor and Gage joined him there. Roy extended a hand to his wife in assistance.

They stood up, watched the pair a moment longer and went to the kitchen.

"You know, Dixie McCall told me about a few of his dimensions," Roy said. "I'm not sure she knows about this one, though."

"He'll be a great father someday," Joanne said. "Is he serious about this Delores?"

"Uh, he likes her," Roy said. "But I don't think it's serious. Something tells me it's going to take quite a woman to land him for keeps."

Joanne nodded.

Roy picked up the salad. "Guess we'll see how the kids are doing," he joked.

Joanne chuckled.

They went out of the kitchen and witnessed a zoo of sorts in their living room.

Chris had crawled over with a couple of his stuffed animals, to which Gage was now providing audio accompaniment.

"Dinner's ready!" Joanne announced.

E! E! E! E!

"So where are you originally from, Johnny?" Joanne asked.

"Over the San Gabriels," said Gage, his voice low. "My family moved to L.A. when I was 14."

"Do you come from a firefighting family?"

Both Roy and Joanne noticed the other man's eyes turning sad. "No…no. My father was a laborer, my mom was a nurse. They supported my decision to enter the fire academy." His voice gradually went down in tone again. "They're both gone now."

"I'm so sorry," Joanne said softly.

Roy said nothing, but looked at his new partner for a moment. Gage had asked plenty of questions, but had answered few of his own until now.

The moment was interrupted by Chris babbling in his high chair. The sad atmosphere and tension were broken as the three adults turned their attention to the infant.

A little later, Roy mentioned Gage's motorcycle.

"Yeah, I kind of like it when I'm alone and need to think. Not practical for dates, though." Here, Gage smiled what Dixie had referred to as his "megawatt" smile. "It's better to go camping."

Joanne looked at her husband. "Roy likes to camp," she said. "And fish."

Gage continued beaming. "That's great!" he exclaimed. "Maybe we can go some time!"

"Sounds good," Roy agreed. _What's it going to be like to go camping with this ball of fire?_ he wondered. "I don't think we can both ride a motorcycle, though."

Gage grinned. "I have a camper," he said. "It's kind of old, but it runs pretty well. I bought it from a friend on the…well, I bought it from a friend. I'd actually like to buy a Range Rover. Those are very sturdy."

"A little more room than a motorcycle, too," added Roy with a grin.

"Oh, you bet," said Johnny, chewing a piece of pot roast. He turned to Joanne. "This pot roast is great," he said in mid-chew.

"Thank you," replied Joanne, stealing a glance at Roy, who nodded slightly. _Yeah, his eating habits could use some work,_ he communicated silently to his wife.

"So Johnny," Joanne began. "Roy tells me you have a girlfriend." _Hopefully, she can teach you how to swallow before you talk._

Gage, who had taken a bite of his food, began to choke. Roy, leaped to his feet, but the younger man held up a hand and recovered quickly.

"Uh…yeah, I'm dating someone," croaked Gage, blushing at Joanne. "Her name is Delores. She's a nurse at Rampart."

Joanne smiled. "Is it serious?"

"Jo-" Roy interrupted. "I think Johnny needs to get his breath back."

E! E! E! E!

"Thanks for helping with the dishes, Johnny."

"You're welcome, Ma'am."

Joanne smiled. "Please call me Joanne."

"Yes, Ma'am – uh, Joanne."

Gage washed and put the dishes and cups in the drying rack at Joanne's direction. _Goodness, he's so young,_ she thought.

"You've been a fireman how long?"

"Three years."

Joanne bit her lip, pondering what to say next, and looked up at the young man. The expression on his face had changed; gone was the shy fellow, replaced by the determined paramedic. Joanne sensed the change. Roy had told her what happened to him on the job.

"Joanne, I will be a good partner to Roy," Gage said. "I will do my best to make sure he comes home to you safe and unhurt at the end of each shift."

Joanne took a deep breath and nodded. He meant every word.

"I know that."

Gage followed with a nod of his own, of the understanding between them.

 _Later that night…._

"Well, what did you think of him?"

"He's so young, Roy."

"Yeah. Dixie found out he'll soon be 23. I think she wants to throw him a party."

"He looks even younger."

Roy looked intently at his wife. "Not too young to be a good partner."

"That's what he told me."

Roy's eyes opened wide. "He told you?"

Joanne nodded. "He promised me he'll take care of you."

To that, Roy had no answer.


	9. Chapter 9

**Founding Father – Conclusion**

 _Station 51_

Roy was the first arrival.

Once he'd pulled his Porsche into the parking lot, he took time to absorb his surroundings. He'd never been part of a new fire station before.

He entered and was greeted by two sights – the now-familiar Squad 51 and the majestic Engine 51 - appropriately, a Crown. _Wow._

Roy resisted the urge to walk over to the vehicles and instead went into the locker room. Sitting on a bench was a young man, maybe a year or two younger. Roy had seen him before, but couldn't remember his name.

Roy moved forward. "Hi," he said, stretching out his hand. "Roy DeSoto."

The other man looked up and accepted the hand. "Oh, Hi," he responded. "Mike Stoker."

Stoker. Not only 51's new engineer, but a new engineer, period. "Congratulations," Roy said.

"Thanks. You, too. You're one of the para – uh, para…"

"Paramedics," Roy finished. He knew he and Gage were going to be doing that a lot early on.

"Right," Stoker said. "Congratulations to you."

\

"Thanks."

That was the end of the conversation for now. Well, Roy had heard that Mike Stoker, who had served as a lineman at Station 18 before his promotion, was considered one of the quietest men in the Los Angeles County Fire Department.

As Roy put on his uniform, the locker room door opened to a man who was the exact opposite. "Good morning, Roy!" John Gage exclaimed, stopped momentarily when he saw Stoker, then gave an enthusiastic "Hi!" and reached out his hand. "John Gage!"

"Morning," Stoker responded with a nod, returning the handshake quietly. "Mike Stoker."

Roy forced back a smile. _Talk about polar opposites…._

"Good to meet ya. I've heard a lot about you," Gage continued, congratulating Stoker on his promotion.

As the young man rattled on, another man walked in. Roy turned around. Marco Lopez.

They hadn't been crewmates, but had frequently served together when one or the other had overtime. Somehow, they'd developed a teasing relationship – particularly over their cooking. Roy knew that Lopez was actually an excellent cook.

Lopez smiled. "Good to see you, DeSoto – even if you are one of the worst cooks in the fire department."

"I seem to remember an engine company being sent out after the last time you cooked chili," Roy shot back. He could hear Gage giggling.

"We're giving bad impressions to these other guys here," Lopez said. He reached his hand forward. "John Gage, right? I'm Marco Lopez."

"Oh, I've heard all about you – and your chili," Gage responded.

Lopez looked at Roy. "Oh, don't listen to DeSoto; he exaggerates."

"If it's about you, Marco, he's not exaggerating," came a new voice from the door. They turned to see a short, curly-haired man.

Before Lopez could say a word, the man had looked at Gage. "And what about you?" he asked. "Where's your bassinet?"

Gage frowned. "What did you say?"

"Where's your bassinet?" the man repeated. "I mean, the stork should have delivered you to the hospital, shouldn't he?"

Roy watched as his new – and young - paramedic partner got flustered. "I'm not that young," Gage responded.

"And you're not that tall, Kelly," Lopez broke in, laughing. "Guys, this is Chet Kelly. He should come with some sort of warning."

They were all surprised – Kelly especially - to see Gage stick out his hand to shake Kelly's. "John Gage," he said.

Roy looked at the two men. _These two are going to have an interesting relationship,_ he thought.

"Good morning, men," they heard from the door.

They all turned. "I'm Captain Hammer," he said, walking forward. He shook hands with each of his men as they introduced themselves, one by one.

"I've heard good things about all of you," Hammer said. "It's good to start a new station in such a promising way."

The five men nodded silently. Hammer seemed approachable enough, but there was also a no-nonsense aura about him.

He walked out. The others looked at each other. Kelly broke the silence. "He seems OK," he said. His new colleagues nodded in agreement.

They fell silent again until Stoker popped up. "Well, time to get at it," he said. "I heard someone from Headquarters is supposed to be here this morning." With that, he shot through the door.

They all looked toward the trail the engineer had left. "I have a feeling that's more words than he usually says," remarked Kelly.

The others chuckled.

"Well, Chet, let's get dressed," Lopez said. "I want to look around this station – the kitchen, especially. Anyway, we've just met these guys," he added, with a wink to Roy and Gage.

"I need to find my locker, Marco," Kelly responded.

"Well, we all need to find our lockers," Lopez retorted. "Just be sure you can find your badge, Chet."

With disgust, Kelly looked at Lopez, then quickly at the paramedics, who were trying unsuccessfully to hide grins.

"You just can't stop, can you, Marco?" Kelly fumed.

The paramedics got into their own uniforms, watching the jokingly bickering linemen with amusement until they exited the locker room.

Roy turned to Gage. "Have you seen the squad yet?" Roy asked.

Gage shook his head.

"Let's go, Junior," he said.

As they left the locker room, Roy grinned as he heard Gage mutter about the nickname.

Roy DeSoto suspected he'd have lots of time to deal with the whirlwind that was John Gage.

Meanwhile, it was time to get to work.

THE END


End file.
